


Extraordinary

by ALMartin1011



Series: Completely random and unrelated MCU drabbles & shorts [7]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Meet-Cute, Reader Insert, Steve Rogers Has Issues, Steve Rogers Has PTSD, because a girl can dream, it's a little sad but also fluff, librarian!reader, steve does his best to deal with his mental heath, using america's most famous super soldier as a human mattress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:34:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24135934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ALMartin1011/pseuds/ALMartin1011
Summary: Steve is just trying to get through his day to day life in the wake of The Battle of New York, working at SHIELD and trying to ignore his own personal demons. Then he meets Y/N, a librarian who sees more than just the mantle of Captain America.Content Warning: some negative inner dialogue
Relationships: Steve Rogers & Reader, Steve Rogers/Reader
Series: Completely random and unrelated MCU drabbles & shorts [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1660210
Comments: 2
Kudos: 46





	Extraordinary

**Author's Note:**

> Hello lovelies! This was written for the oh-so-talented @lancsnerd ‘s 1k Challenge. I picked the quote “You’re not special. You’re extraordinary.” for Steve. I really had a blast with this prompt and I hope you all enjoy the fic! XOXO - Ash

_“A hero? Like you?” Tony spits out incredulously, “You're a lab rat, Rogers. Everything special about you came out of a bottle!”_

Tony’s words echo in Steve’s head as he wakes with a start. Heart pounding, chest heaving, he tries to get his bearings. A dream. Just a dream. The words though, those still sting. Even a year later Steve can’t shake the feeling that Tony was right. _Shit_. He’s never getting back to sleep now. 

Steve drags himself out of bed, ignoring the alarm clock’s judgmental blue glow of 4:15am. At least he made it past 3am this time. Sleep problems are common in people with PTSD, his therapist had told him. She offered him medication to help but Steve declined, not sure how well it would work with his super soldier metabolism anyways. He dresses quickly, wanting to get a run in before breakfast. Steve has plenty of time, SHIELD doesn’t require him to show up until 9am, but he’s normally there before eight. He likes feeling useful, and having a steady job at SHIELD has been centering for him.

Steve runs a full marathon before the sun even comes up. He returns home just over an hour later, sweaty and finally starting to feel his muscles burn a little. It’s nice being able to lose himself for a little while in the steady rhythm of his feet hitting the pavement. He stares at his coffee maker for a moment before deciding it isn’t worth the hassle. It’s strange, having the luxury of getting coffee out just because he feels like it. The 1940s still feel like they were a few years ago and Steve’s depression era values run deep. He will admit though, there’s something to be said for takeout. Steve powers through two protein bars as he gets ready for a shower, needing something in his system before he crashes. It’s obnoxious some days how much his enhanced body requires, but he manages. It’s just one of the many unexpected side effects of Erskine’s serum.

Surviving Project Rebirth had been a blessing and a curse. Steve had finally gotten everything he wanted; a chance to fight for what was right, to do something meaningful with his life. But it came with a high price: his freedom. Steve’s life hasn’t been his own since the moment he stepped out of the vita-ray pod. He wasted so much time being the military’s dancing monkey and then once they realized he could fight, it was one battle after another. Even in this new century, he was thrust into a battle for mankind shortly after thawing out. Working for SHIELD for the past year has felt like a vacation after WWII and the Battle of New York. 

Steve clears the steam from the bathroom mirror after his shower, needing to do a quick shave. He stares at his reflection long after his face is back to its standard smoothness. _Tony was right_ , his inner demons whisper. _Fraud. Nothing. Worthless_. Steve knows he’s supposed to reframe his thoughts and move past his negative inner dialogue, but in the moment he just can’t summon the will to care. Running a comb through his hair, he heads into the bedroom to dress for the day. He may not feel up to it at the moment but given a little time and some coffee, he’ll be okay by the time he gets into the office. 

The sounds of the city in downtown DC remind Steve of the Brooklyn of his youth and he’s comforted by the familiar hustle and bustle. He almost doesn’t see the oncoming trash truck when you step off the sidewalk to cross the street. A step behind you, Steve catches the large green truck out of the corner of his eye. The truck barely stops at the light and makes an illegal right turn on red, barreling straight for you. Steve, in a burst of speed, slams into you, scooping you up in his arms and rolling into the other lane out of the way of danger. As his broad shoulders collide with the pavement he holds you as tightly as he can, letting his body take the brunt of the impact. People on the sidewalk scream watching the scene unfold, but it’s all background noise to Steve who is only focused on the squeak of surprise you make as you roll. 

You come to a stop with Steve below you and he’s frantic to make sure you’re okay. “Are you alright? Are you hurt?” he asks urgently.

You blink a few times, gaining your bearings. One minute you’re crossing the street to work, the next you’re using America’s most famous super soldier as a human mattress. Not how you expected your day to go, to say the least. “I’m okay. I think.”

Steve frowns, still concerned. “You could be in shock. Here, let’s get you up.” 

You start to get up on your own but the second you’re off him Steve jumps up and reaches out. You accept his hand, pulling yourself up from the dirty DC street and trying in vain to straighten out your clothes. Steve collects your messenger bag and has it ready to hand over as soon as you’re done fussing with your silk blouse that is definitely going to need a trip to the dry cleaners after this. “Thanks.” you give him a small smile as you take your bag. 

Steve feels his breath catch in the wake of your smile. You’re petite compared to him, your smart bun is a little mussed from the rolling and your cheeks are flushed. He tries to ignore his interest in your soft feminine curves but Steve would have to be blind not to notice you. Almost a hundred years old and he still doesn’t know how to act around a pretty girl. _Idiot. Useless,_ his demons hiss. “Let me buy you a cup of coffee,” he blurts out before his brain can catch up, “If you’re in shock then I can at least keep an eye on you for a bit.” 

First he saves your life, now he’s offering you coffee. Captain America indeed. “You don’t have to, really. I was going to just stop in at La Columbe on my way to work.” 

“I was headed there too! Come on, I’ll feel a lot better knowing you’re not gonna pass out the second the shock wears off.” Steve gives you his very best earnest expression, “Please? I’m Steve, by the way.” he adds as an afterthought.

“Hi Steve.” you try not to laugh. Like you hadn’t recognized the literal symbol of America. “I’m Y/N.” 

“Nice to meet you, Y/N. So, coffee?” 

“Sure, why not?” you agree. Steve’s face lights up like the sun and you’re blinded by it. Part of you wonders if the truck actually hit you and you’re dead, or maybe in a coma dreaming. Only the slight ache in your shoulder gives you confidence that this surreal experience is your real life.

You follow Steve down the block to your favorite coffee shop, making small talk along the way by explaining you work at the library two blocks over. You’ve run the children's programs and adult literacy group there for the past four years. Steve seems genuinely interested in your work which is both surprising and sweet. 

There’s no line at the coffee shop so you take a minute to pick your drink while Steve orders his usual Americano and a bag full of breakfast sandwiches. He looks bashfully over at you once he’s done, insisting you add your coffee to his tab. You settle on a smoked butterscotch latte, it’s been a while since you had one. You stop there every morning before work but never order the same drink twice in a row.

You try to get Steve to talk about himself while you wait for your drinks but he’s adorably vague. “Steve,” you stop him with a gentle hand on his forearm, “I know who you are. It’s okay.” 

Steve barks out a laugh, “Sorry. I forget sometimes. Okay then, I’m heading into the office to consult on a mission from last week. They have me review mission reports to make notes on how we can improve things in the future.” 

“That’s actually really cool.” you tell him. You would have said more but your orders are up and Steve hands you your paper to go cup. “Well, thanks for the drink, Steve. And the whole saving me thing.” you joke.

“Any time ma’am.” he quips, full of cheesy Captain America charm. You’re surprised and delighted to find he has a little bit of sass to him. “Really though,” he adds in a normal tone, “Are you sure you’re okay?” 

“I am, thanks to you.” 

There’s an awkward moment before you part. You don’t want to come across as a crazy fangirl but you also want to talk to him again sometime. Then again, you’re a librarian who’s closest friends are books and he’s Captain freaking America. You squash down the impulse and part ways with a smile. At least you’ll have an interesting story to tell Ellen at work. 

A few days go by and Steve keeps hoping to see you again at the coffee shop. It’s completely ridiculous but he wants to check on you and make sure you’re okay. It also doesn’t hurt that you’re beautiful. Steve spends two days debating with himself if it would be creepy or kind to pop by the library to check on you. By Friday morning he’s talked himself into it as he wraps up his run. He throws on a smart looking button up shirt and makes sure his hair is slicked back nicely in a way Natasha insists is stylish. _Fool. Impostor. Idiot_. His head demons whisper as he checks himself in the mirror one last time. He forces himself to ignore them and heads out in the warm summer air. 

Steve realizes as he stands on the steps of the library that he doesn’t know your schedule. Or your last name. He steels himself for impending failure and heads inside. He can at least try. 

Your voice carries through the quiet library and it calms him immediately. “- and he hopped so high that his ears brushed the branches above. That’s good hopping thought little nutbrown hare…” 

Steve follows the sound of your voice across the library where he finds you sitting cross legged on a brightly patterned carpet in front of a small herd of preschoolers. Your tone and expressions keep the kids engaged as you read them a story and Steve is spellbound. He hangs back quietly leaning on a bookcase, watching you lead the group and waiting for you to finish. It doesn’t take long before the group disbands and you’re on your own to clean up after receiving a few enthusiastic hugs from the kids. 

“Hey, Y/N.” Steve says walking over to you. 

You look up, not having noticed him before. “Steve!” you try to stifle how excited you are by his presence. “How are you?”

“I’m okay. Thought I’d drop by to see how you’re doing.” 

“I’m fine, really. I promise. Your life saving skills are excellent.” 

“Glad I haven’t lost my touch being behind a desk.” 

“Definitely not.” you assure him, “So, anything I can help you with while you’re here?” 

Steve realizes he hadn’t thought much past seeing you again. “Could I take you out for a cup of coffee?” 

“I’m working right now.” Steve’s heart drops in his chest, “But I’ll be free for lunch around one.”

Lunch. Not just coffee, but an actual meal. Hope renews in Steve. “I can do that. I could pick you up here?” 

“Sure. There’s a few places around here, so we have options.” 

“Okay great,” Steve tries to reign in his enthusiasm, “I’ll see you then.” Steve gives you a blinding smile before you part ways and it makes you wonder if the fluttering feeling in your chest might be reciprocated after all. 

Steve arrives back at the library at one o’clock sharp, not really caring if it messes up his schedule at Shield. He never takes a real lunch, often just grabbing a tray of something in the cafeteria and dragging it back up to his office to eat while he works. It’s nice getting out in the warm sunshine in the middle of the day. Steve spots you coming out at the same time he’s heading up the stairs and he gives you a small wave. “Ready to go?” he calls as he meets you on the stairs. 

“Absolutely.” you grin, “What are you in the mood for?” 

“I eat just about anything.” 

“Me too. Um, there’s a really good taco truck around the corner. We could eat in the park?” 

“Sounds great.” Steve agrees easily. It’s not a conventional type of first date and that makes it almost more exciting to him. 

You show Steve the way to your favorite food truck where you have to suppress your surprise when he practically buys out the truck. He apologizes profusely, making sure the guys know if they need to wait on other people first he’s fine waiting. 

“Steve,” you finally attempt to get his attention, “You know it’s okay to order yourself a meal, right? You don’t have to keep apologizing, these guys are used to the lunch rush.” 

Steve’s cheeks redden and he rubs a hand on the back of his neck, a visible nervous tick. “I know.” he says, but his words don’t sound convincing even to himself. 

A few others do show up while you wait but as expected, the guys are used to the rush and have no trouble keeping up. After only a few minutes they’re calling Steve’s name and he hurries over to collect your bags. A pair of girls are eyeing him as he accepts the food, whispering in the least subtle way possible. They can’t be more than twenty and they’re frantically typing on their phones as they whisper. 

“Are you, Captain America?” the braver of the two asks him.

“Yes, ma’am.” Steve replies. His tone is friendly yet guarded and you watch him with curiosity. 

The girls giggle, and the other speaks up, “I did a whole history project on you and the Howlies a few years ago. You’re a real inspiration.” 

“Um… thank you.” Steve says, rubbing the back of his neck nervously again. “You ladies have a nice day.” He’s moving away before they can even say goodbye, making a beeline for you.

Finding a picnic table over by the shade trees Steve lays out the food, your taco platter looking pitiful next to his spread. Steve’s shoulders start to loosen a little as you start chatting about your day. You see him cringe when the girls from earlier walk past, but they don’t stop or say anything, only giving him quick little waves as they pass by. 

“That has to be a little overwhelming.” you comment mildly.

“Hmm?” Steve hums, mouth full of taco.

“Being recognized all the time.” you clarify. “It has to be a little overwhelming.” 

Steve nods, “Yeah, I’m still getting used to it. I just don’t get it. I’m really nothing special.” 

You laugh lightly, “Steve, you’re Captain America. **You’re not special, you’re extraordinary**.” 

“I’m just a kid from Brooklyn who never learned to stand down in a fight.” he shrugs. 

“And grew up to save the world. Twice.” 

“Nah, I had a lot of help with that.”

“You really suck at letting people compliment you, you know that?” you tease.

Steve sighs, shaking his head, “I just don’t get it. I don’t want to be Cap all the time. Sometimes I just want to be Steve Rogers.” 

“Well there’s your problem then.” Steve looks at you expectantly to continue. “Because Steve Rogers is pretty damn extraordinary too.” 

Steve stares at you for a stunned moment. He doesn’t even know how to respond to adequately express how much your words mean to him. No one has wanted Steve just for himself since Peggy and that had been a lifetime ago. For once the demons in his head are silent. Steve takes a long, steadying breath before speaking. “Thank you, Y/N.”

“Nothing to thank me for. Now, tell me, what does Steve Rogers do for fun?”

Steve laughs at the topic change. “Have you heard of the show Parks and Recreation?”

“That is _literally_ the best show.” you give your words a Chris Traeger inflection and watch as a wide smile breaks out on Steve’s face.

“Nice. Well, I’m watching that right now. I’m about halfway through the list of important things to watch and this show’s actually pretty good.” 

“You have a list? What else is on it?” you wonder who made it for him and if any other of your favorite shows are on it.

“How much time do you have?” Steve jokes.

“For you, I have all the time in the world.” 

But you didn’t have all the time in the world. You didn’t need to get back to the library for the next group until 3:30 and you had thought that would be more than enough time. Instead the minutes flew by as you talked with Steve and by the time you finish, you’re racing back to the library to make it there on time. Talking with Steve was as easy as breathing and you were disappointed when you realized you were out of time. You had kept the conversation on generic ‘getting to know you’ topics, keeping away from anything Avengers related since he seemed uncomfortable talking about his public persona. While a tiny part of your brain had swooned over Captain America at first, you’re currently swooning over Steve Rogers himself. He’s kind, surprisingly funny, and as you suspected, genuinely a good man. 

“Y/N, wait!” Steve calls out, causing you to stop in the doorway to the library. You had already said your goodbyes but Steve’s mouth had gotten ahead of his brain yet again. 

You look to him expectantly, waiting for him to continue.

He takes a long breath, bracing himself against his own nerves.“Can we do this again sometime?”

“Yeah, Steve. We can.”

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact, if anyone cares - the story Y/N is reading to the kids at story time is called "Guess How Much I Love You" and it is the cutest damn children's book **ever**. Both of my boys were obsessed when they were toddlers.


End file.
